The Happiest Man in Asgard
by ellisbanesnow
Summary: Thor, slightly worse the wear from drinking, says things Loki's been wanting to hear for so very long... Loki, for once in his life, can't work out how to respond. Sappy pre-movie nonsense. Thor/Loki


Thor's drunk when Loki runs into him in the long, dim corridors late that night. Of COURSE Thor's drunk; there's been a feast, Thor's drunk – you rarely get one without the other.

Honestly, Loki can't abide drunkenness, and leaves these celebrations early except when it's entirely unavoidable, in order to avoid the company of too many inebriated warriors; still, when it's Thor he makes an exception, when it's Thor he can find it endearing - though of course he makes sure to look suitably disapproving and superior about it all the same.

"My dearest Brother!"

Thor's voice echoes up into the high ceiling, deep like the thunder he is known for – and loud like it too.

"Oh Loki, I wish you would not leave our parties so early, without even a word of your intent to go!" As he reaches Loki he pulls him, by the arm and none too gently, over to a nearby alcove where there is a gleaming metal bench with decorative vases, looking distinctly more breakable in Thor's tipsy presence, to either side. His words are only slightly slurred - he can handle his drink, naturally; drinking seems as much a part of a warrior lifestyle as actual war, to Thor and his friends at least, and Loki imagines his brother has had an amount tonight that would kill him outright if he were to drink it. "I have missed you, and you have missed such fun, you should have heard Sif's tale of her exploits this past moon, I tell you brother she…"

"Thor! Loki! My friends!"

It's Fandral who interrupts Thor, and Loki's almost grateful that he's been stopped short of launching into some longwinded and doubtless gory tale of Sif's violent exploits, which would then probably lead him into a tale of someone else's, and from there, well, it could go on all night.

Fandral seems a rather greater degree in his cups than Thor, and lurches worryingly, pausing on his way past.

"Look at him smiling," he says, gesturing to Thor and sounding like a middle aged woman admiring a child; it irks Loki in a hundred different ways and he wishes his brother's friend would move on to sleep off his wine, though he says nothing. "Sometimes, Loki, I think your dear brother, my closest of friends, the Mighty Thor Odinson…"

He loses his train of thought there, which is probably fortunate for him since Loki is on the verge of deciding to stab him and be done with it.

"Go to bed, my friend!" Thor says laughingly and Fandral throws a strange kind of salute.

"On my way, my friends, on my way! But truly…" he continues drowsily, addressing Loki again. "Sometimes I think he smiles all of the time, except when he's fighting of course, sometimes I think it is his natural expression… But sometimes I see another look upon his face, as if he is the happiest man in Asgard… And I realise now, it is only when you are by his side! Ah, brotherhood! Mind you, he will not be smiling come morning, after all that ale! He will be like a bear with a sore head, he always is!"

"I see, because of the sore head he will have. You are so very witty," Loki tells him flatly, but he can't seem to muster any real venom to put behind his sarcastic words.

Finally Fandral sets off upon his way again, half muttering and half singing to himself of brotherhood, brothers in arms, and of course the joy of killing things. Loki is relieved, but he finds he feels rather less coldly inclined toward the departing man than he did a mere moment previous. He also finds that his heart is racing, that he almost fears turning back to look at his brother who is still laughing quietly to himself.

Eventually he forces himself to, and perhaps, perhaps the warrior is right, oh how he hopes he is right, because the way his handsome brother is looking at him in the soft candle light…

"Oh Loki," he sighs suddenly, taking one of Loki's pale hands between his two. This being the last thing he was expecting, Loki jumps slightly in surprise, then looks down for a long moment at his brothers warm hands enfolding his, so much bigger, so much stronger, so much darker, so much so that he could let himself believe for a second that they are not related at all, and oh how much easier life might be if that were so…

Thor seems not to have noticed his surprise, nor picked up on the musings in his tormented mind, and that's all to the good. Gazing contentedly at his brother, he seems to have no intention of speaking further either, and Loki has no desire to break the spell he seems to be under – a spell that is not of his doing, a spell that he regretfully suspects is the doing of alcohol alone and will be gone, dissipated into vapour along with its effects come dawn.

"Thor…" he ventures to say eventually, but gets no further as apparently Thor is woken from his trance by the disturbance of the silence surrounding them in their little alcove.

"Loki," his brother sighs again. "He was right, you know… With you beside me I feel like the luckiest man in Asgard – the luckiest in any realm! Without you… without you…" He trails off and smiles that smile again, and candle light glimmers in his hair and Loki finds he cannot bring himself to speak, cannot bring himself to move… He wonders vaguely, ridiculously, if it is he who is falling under the influence of some spell. But if he is, he has to remind himself, it is an unfortunate one, a terrible one, one that will surely break his heart. He must fight it, fight it, instead of sitting here, holding his brother's hands in the middle of the night and _wanting_, wanting to…

"Loki," Thor murmurs his name yet again, and Loki lets the single word between them break his spell, pulling his hand gently from Thor's grasp and smiling as best he can with his heart aching and his own thoughts mocking him, scorning him for a fool and a deviant.

His brother seems unconcerned, and simply rests his big hands on Loki's thigh instead, which is worse, so very much worse, and he wants to curse him as much as he wants to kiss him. He tries to mask his feelings, which is easy because they are so many feelings at once, battling each other within him until he cannot call it one or another, and easier because Thor is so oblivious, so entirely unaware of what he does to him just by…just by _being…_

Unexpectedly, strangely, suddenly, _pathetically _his mind tells him, his inner voice like acid, he feels that he might start crying. _All is well_, he tells himself silently, trying to drown the other voice, the one that despises him, in _all is well, all is well, all is well…_

"My dearest Brother… You are so beautiful," Thor tells him, and it all stops. His mind stops, his breathing stops, he cannot be entirely certain his heart hasn't stopped. "So unfairly beautiful," his brother adds with a smile, oblivious again, unaware that he has broken him.

He is frozen in that moment for so long, in shock so deep that no other feelings penetrate, and Thor just continues watching him, gazing at him as if… as if he really is beautiful.

"I know I should not think such things of you, my brother," Thor admits presently, perhaps mistaking his shock for… Well, for shock. Loki's mind wheels rapidly and now he is certain he will laugh, laugh even though he's being torn apart by hope and love and _terror, _fear he cannot acknowledge. He does not laugh, though, just sits, watches his brother as intently as he is being watched. "I just… I simply… I cannot help myself, brother. You… you are everything to me, I adore you, even though I tell myself it is wrong…"

"Thor…" Loki manages to say eventually in a voice that sounds so little like his own. "You…" He cannot, for once in his life, summon up any lovely words, any words at all because he cannot, for once in his life, think of what to say. Perhaps he is dreaming. Perhaps he is really under a spell and this is all an illusion and he is sitting on a bench in the middle of the night talking to himself. Perhaps he is just mad, as they say he is…

"I… should not have burdened you with these feelings, Loki, I am so sorry," his brother is saying now, looking sadder but peaceful, and he's so handsome and so gentle and Loki still cannot think of a thing to say, to do. "One day perhaps… when I am less drunk, and you less shocked… Maybe you would consider… Maybe you would let me… No, I should never…"

"Thor," Loki finally manages to say again, and he reaches a nervous hand to rest on top of Thor's except his brother is standing now and does not even notice.

He finds that they are gazing into each other's eyes again, except now Thor is standing, Loki looking up at his big blue eyes and his sincere, loving expression.

"Just… know that I adore you, my- my Loki," Thor tells him seriously, though his mouth twists with uncertainty, with an echo of the nervous fear in Loki maybe, and then he is leaning down and Loki is praying, praying for a kiss, and his brother kisses him, but just a gentle kiss on the top of his head… And then he is leaving, _leaving, _lit up by moonlight and cloaked in shadows in turn as he makes his way down the corridor toward his rooms, swaying just slightly.

Loki longs to call after him, to run after him, to stop him somehow and tell him… Tell him everything, _everything _he's ever thought and wanted and longed for, to give it all to Thor. Instead he remains where he is, sitting in the silence and half-darkness until the candles gutter out and the sun creeps up to torment those who drank too much last night.


End file.
